Unemployed Seeks Employment (and wonders if a commute to San Fran ain't so bad)

Today I hit an all time low on the scale of positive-outlook-for-future-employment. I found out that a local literary agency isn't hiring, which was a disappointment because it was my opportunity for a full-time LOCAL literary career. I seriously found myself wondering what I could have done differently with my life. Jonathan and I willingly chose Lodi together. I acknowledged that it would be difficult to find an on-site project editor or acquisitions editor job--even editorial assistant would be difficult. Those jobs are in San Francisco which is an hour and a half away. . .

. . . an hour and a half isn't so bad, is it?

Whenever someone asks me what my degree is in, or what I want to be when I grow up, I justify my choice of profession. It's because everyone wants to be a writer. Everyone is mentally splicing a novel, or pinning together a story as they go about their daily lives. Who am I to think that I should call myself a writer? At times I feel SO LOW on the totem pole--thinking that I'm nothing but a writer, and some people are five other things as well as being a writer. But here's the thing. I don't only want to write. I edit so that I can be a writer, and it's true--I love editing. I tell you, it's a respectable (and highly underrated) job in and of itself. I'm reminded of this every time I pick up a poorly edited book, and it seems like there's lot's of those these days. Publishing houses are hiring less in-house editors and either hiring freelancers or telling authors to find their own. It should be a good market for me, but wow. It's hard to get established and make connections.

Anyway, the day did get better when I found out that I have a few possibilities left. Then I went to worship practice, and on the way home a song came on the radio. I don't even like the station--it borders on idolatry with its famous worship leader profiles and contest about Michael W. Smith that's called something like, "THE ULTIMATE WORSHIP LEADER!" (that's how they announce it. Not kidding. Did I miss the BBC special about God knighting MWS?). Anyway, some guy was singing a song about how God times the sunsets and sunrises just right and knows our deepest needs, and I was completely humbled.

God not only knows my deepest need but he's already taken care of it. It's life. His saving life, coursing through my veins and pumping eternity into this greedy heart of mine. Since when did I start thinking that God owed me something? Especially a job? He's given me enough purpose to last a thousand lifetimes on this planet, and I'm wandering about complaining I don't have one.

This week I'm praying that God opens up my Lodi eyes to see what this community needs.

1 comment:

Jen Mc. said...

Your last paragraph in this post is just beautiful. You should travel over to the Master's Artist to visit Madison Richard's recent post on keepin' on...
I've been thinking about these things lately, and I wondered if a really long session of prayer (see Luke 6:12) might help with some of this stuff. God is our first love, but sometimes other-life gets priority, or the writing itself gets priority...and in this way, we're filled with too little to give anyone else much of an overflow in our work. Speaking for myself, anyway.
Let me know if you're interested in a collaborative "sure, I could lose some sleep!" prayer session. Agenda:
-praise! (God is ever revealing Himself to writers! We are a blessed lot, pub'd and un-pub'd!)
-repentance! (eyes off first love, on pub houses? shallow attention spans, bursts of unfinished inspiration?)
-supplication (help!)
-thanks (because, in the end, we've lived the coolest lives possible)